


Kiss the Rain

by eraleon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6064957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eraleon/pseuds/eraleon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So he'd kiss the rain for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss the Rain

It’s her favourite sweater, he knows. And he knows the reason why she gave it to him, but still he can’t really bring himself to believe it. He never thought he’d get to see her again, that he’d get to enjoy her presence as much as he used to. He never thought he’d get to have her so close.

And yet... She still sat there. She still held him. And even when he tentatively intertwined their fingers, she didn’t pull away. He felt the warmth of the sweater, let the familiar scent of her overtake his senses into contentment, just like it had been so many years ago. The nightmares wouldn’t plague him, just because she was there. Just because she would chase them away somehow, she always did. She always put him at such ease. She gave him such a feeling of home, that no matter what, she would be there at his side.

It was such a comforting feeling. He finally had his mother back, finally had the figure that he had lost himself to grief for when she had supposedly “died”, and she was right beside him. She was going to protect him again, and he to her. 

And even as the nights passed where she would end up at his side, where she would end up holding him in some form and he would fall to content sleep with a faint smile on his face, somehow Washington knew it wouldn’t last. He knew, from all of his painful life experiences, it wouldn’t last. 

But that didn’t stop him from hoping anyway, to continue on in believing that fate wouldn’t be so cruel, and that he could indulge in this peace just a little bit more. The happiness of finally being with someone he thought he could never be with again. It was a selfish wish, yes, but something told him she didn’t want to go, either. Something told him she was content, too. She was happy, too. 

So he continued on wearing her sweater when the armor was off. He continued to sleep with it, continued to bask in the warmth that still stayed behind even if she wasn’t at his side during a particular night. He still breathed in that homely smell that chased away the darkness, gave him the impression that she was still watching over him right by his side. He ran his fingers over the lone star on the arm, tracing the lines and he whispered _Texas_ under his breath. 

He had become so attached to that sweater, that even when she was gone, even when he was so far away from home, it still kept him company. it still served Washington to remind him as David. It still reminded him of her. It still reminded him that he wasn’t alone.

Even if he was, even if he was left to fend for himself, to survive on his own, with absolutely no one to rely on, the sweater told him he wasn’t. It told him in her exact voice: It wasn’t your fault, kid. It told him: You’ll find your way. It told him everything she had said to him once, it continued to remind him, even when Texas herself wasn’t able to do so by herself anymore.

It kept him going.

It kept him home.

 

Until the sweater began to lose her smell. Until it began to lose some of the warmth, and began to flicker out. But Washington still kept it anyway, still wore it when his armor was discarded. He was all alone, all of the Freelancers were dead, and the MoI down. He had been betrayed, he'd been shot in the back. But he still wore the sweater and clung to it in the coldness of the jail cell, and somehow, he faintly felt her still. He faintly felt her telling him everything would be okay. And even when the nightmares still haunted him the nights on end, he didn't feel alone. He wouldn't ever be alone with the sweater. He wouldn't lose his way. He wouldn't stray too far from home.

 

 

 

Until the ship crashed. Until the sweater was completely lost, the familiar warmth gone for good. Washington didn't have that hope anymore, he was alone. He strayed too far from home, and now he was lost. Texas told him he would get lost, but he would find his way back. It was in his blood. Yet, he wasn't convinced anymore. It wasn't until that moment that he felt the true, unrestrained grief. All the years of repressing it behind the black cloth of the hoodie had no dam anymore, nothing to hold them back. And he lost himself, over and over again with each night. The nightmares grew violent, he couldn't stop them anymore. The smile was gone, he didn't go to sleep content. He didn't go to sleep in warmth. 

He missed the scent. He missed the familiarity. He missed _her._ But, maybe this is what Epsilon was talking about. Maybe this is what he needed.

"I forget you."

Of course it wasn't that easy. It wouldn't ever be that easy. But he needed to learn to let things go. 

 

Even if that sweater was all he had left of her, he had to let go. Even if he was all alone ---

 

He wasn't, really. He had the Reds and Blues. He had a family again.

 

But even then... Nothing could replace the family he had lost. The family he held finally, the family that watched over him, until she left, and the happiness was gone. Nothing could replace that sweater. 

 

So he'd kiss the rain for her, and he'd say...

 

" _I'm letting you go._ "


End file.
